


To Hold Back All My Dark

by Soozen



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Azula (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Conversations, Depression, Depressive Episode, F/F, Gen, Mentioned Mai (Avatar), Mentioned Zuko, tyzula but barely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28433595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soozen/pseuds/Soozen
Summary: After a conversation with Mai goes horribly wrong, Ty Lee checks on Azula.
Relationships: Azula & Ty Lee (Avatar), Azula/Ty Lee (Avatar)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 128





	To Hold Back All My Dark

**Author's Note:**

> This had originally been a part of my Little Talks series. After a bunch of consideration, I decided it didn't fit with it, and took it out.

She is in the garden, on her hands and knees, yanking weeds up from the dirt.

It is not exactly dignified for a princess to dirty her hands (and her hands are currently absolutely _filthy_ with dirt and earth, her gardening gloves forgotten somewhere nearby), and Azula knows what her father would say if he were to ever see her like this, but thankfully he is locked away in a prison somewhere. Not that Azula could bring herself to _care_ what Ozai would think at this moment. Gardening works, she’s discovered.

Gardening works to keep the darkness at bay.

After that abysmal failure that was her attempt at woodworking, she had then tried her hand at painting, at sand mandalas (a suggestion from the Avatar before leaving Ember Island, and an idiotic one at that; why create something that holds no permanence?), but both were far too delicate, too frustrating.

Toph had given her the idea of getting her hands in the earth, and perhaps she’d meant something more along the lines of pottery or sculpting. But Azula had found a strange satisfaction in pulling up weeds, in pruning, in potting and repotting plants.

And so, now when she needs something to occupy her hands and her thoughts so that she does not fall down into darkness, she finds herself in the gardens, tending to the hedges and the flowers.

Everything had been going so well. The little vacation had come to a close, all had returned to their various homes. After Toph had spoken to her, Azula had felt a shift, had seen a difference in all of Zu-Zu’s friends and how they treated her.

She’s not yet ready to call them friends. Maybe someday.

But, it made her consider her own, of Ty Lee, of Mai. Her friendship with Ty Lee seems perfectly solid; they had spoken, once, briefly, about the vents at the Boiling Rock, and everything seemed behind them. Mai, however….

Mai had never given Azula any indication she wanted to talk, and frankly, it never occurred to Azula that they should. The last time Azula had seen Mai, back at the Boiling Rock, hurtful words had been shared, Mai had drawn her blades ready to attack her; and if it had come to it (which it nearly had), Azula knows now that she probably would have killed her if it hadn’t been for Ty Lee.

So Azula had decided it was time to talk to Mai, to finally talk about what had happened, to put it all behind them; if she had done so with Ty Lee, certainly it would be the same with her other oldest friend.

….A damn stupid idea.

Azula lets out a growl, ripping out a weed at its root, as Mai’s answer to her question rings in her head.

_“I was never your friend.”_

That admission was horribly shocking, and the explanation even worse.

_“I didn’t have a choice. I never wanted to be your friend, and I don’t want to now.”_

No matter how many weeds she pulls (and there are a frustratingly very few to grasp and rip out, but she cannot stop pulling at the earth), she cannot get Mai’s voice out of her head.

It was a lie. The whole time, everything, every moment, every little joke, every secret shared, _all of it_ nothing but a damn lie. Mai had pretended—and she had pretended _so well_ —and Azula had never even suspected, it had never even occurred to her that their whole friendship was built on lies.

No wonder Mai’s betrayal happened so swiftly, had been such a surprise.

But then again, so had Ty Lee’s.

Azula’s hands still, half buried in the loose dirt, her eyes widening as the thought grows and grows, like a cancer in her mind. _Ty Lee._

There is no chance to stop it all as the dark thoughts come sweeping in, pushing aside and squashing down everything else, and she cannot hold them back, it becomes all she can think of: that Ty Lee can hide her thoughts better than Mai ever can, that her betrayal had been a greater shock than Mai’s, that if Mai could conceal her true motives and feelings with such ease, then it would be no great feat at all for Ty Lee to do that same, that Ty Lee certainly could have. That Ty Lee had.

That Ty Lee still is.

A small cry of reason, nearly drowned out by everything else, tries to tell Azula that this is only paranoia, that this is just like how it had been those days before her coronation. She knows it overtook her once before.

But this time, this time, she also _knows_ that what she is thinking is steeped in truth. That she is blind to liars when she likes what she hears; that she believed her father when he said he loved her, that she believed Mai when she had called her a friend.

Like how she has believed in Ty Lee when she says such pretty compliments, when she calls Azula her best friend.

Azula stands, releasing handfuls of dirt as she does, and goes straight to her room.

Her safe, private room, not her bedroom. The gardens are not working, and Azula knows they will not work, and she knows, she can feel the worst of it coming on, and she needs to be alone, alone, alone.

The door shuts behind her, and she is greeted by the scent of the fresh flowers. The scent that normally soothes her does little to calm her now.

Azula stands in the center of the room, this room that was fashioned specifically for her, at the furniture she selected, at the walls painted white because she had wanted it bright, bright and light and inviting and calming—

And right now, she hates the brightness. Hates the sunlight that pours through the open windows. She is nearly vibrating with the combatting emotions within her; the urge to scream, to fight (and to fight who?), to collapse to the ground and _cry_ for the relationships she’d thought she’d had, at how she had been deceived so successfully for so long.

The windows are shut with a slam, her filthy hands leaving marks on the walls and the paper panels, and she is so forceful that she almost tears through the panels. But her goal is achieved; the room is darker.

She wants to break something. Her fingers twitch as she eyes the vases of flowers. Hurling them against the wall would feel good. She knows this.

Instead, Azula sits on her sofa, and stares at the wall, and thinks of every last possible lie Ty Lee has told her. It is a vicious thing, the way her mind refuses to let her think of anything else. Knees brought to her chest, she hugs her legs and doesn’t even attempt to stop it. And she remembers how surprised Sokka had been to learn that she has almost always managed the worst of it all on her own, that he could never imagine getting through what he experiences without his sister or his girlfriend there to support him.

Feeling as she does now, Azula understands. The ache she feels, deep down, to be held, to be assured that this will pass, that she is not alone, it is painful. And it is only amplified in thinking— _knowing_ —that the person she though she could depend on for such moments is not who she wants her to be. That even if she were here, that inevitably they would have the same conversation she’d had with Mai, and the last little shred of hope she holds would be extinguished.

Light once again filters through the closed windows. She has not slept the whole night. This is not new. Every time this happens, it will not let her sleep. Only to be awake, and consumed by that horrible dread, that terrible feeling that she is not wanted, not needed.

The darkness never lasts this long. But Azula usually has the strength to try to fight it.

It is hard to see what the point of pulling herself out is. She has so little to look to.

She is Princess Azula, the once heir to the throne, the once pride of the Fire Nation. She is Azula, the once prodigal daughter to Fire Lord Ozai. And she is Azula, the now failure of the Fire Nation, the unraveled sister to a struggling Fire Lord, the princess once known and loved for her skills and accomplishments, now only known for her cracked mind.

And she can’t even count friends among what little she has.

At some point, exhaustion takes over, and she drifts off, shutting her eyes as she leans against the back of the sofa. When she next opens them, it is because of a soft touch to her shoulder, and Ty Lee’s soft voice speaking her name. The room is dark again, but with only a single lamp from near the door lit, and Azula vaguely wonders how it was lit; Ty Lee is no firebender.

“Hi Azula,” Ty Lee says, and though the room is dimly lit, Ty Lee’s expression is easily read; gentle, a barely there smile, concern in her eyes, as she kneels on the floor in front of the sofa, nearly at eye level with her.

Azula summons a glare—because what other expression could she give—before shutting her eyes again, willing Ty Lee to leave, to just leave her alone.

It doesn’t work. The weight of her hand never leaves her shoulder, and she continues to speak. “You’ve been in here for a while—”

“Get out.”

Her voice is raspier than she intends. It makes her sound angrier. Good. But Ty Lee stubbornly tries again, removing her hand from Azula’s shoulder.

Azula mourns the touch the moment it is gone, a ripple of self-hatred coursing through her at the thought.

“Can I at least get some food for you? Or tea?”

Azula looks up at Ty Lee. “I’m not hungry.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. You’ve got to be at least a little hungry. Maybe I could get the cooks to make something special just for you? Maybe mochi?”

And Ty Lee smiles so broadly at that suggestion, hopeful in a way. Azula can’t understand it.

With an aggravated sigh, Azula sits up, rubbing her eyes. The scent of earth suddenly wafts over her, and she scowls as she realizes her hands are still dirty. “Why are you even here?”

“What do you mean? I…. Azula, I just want to make sure you’re okay. I’m, well, I’m concerned.”

“Really.” It isn’t a question, but a remark of disbelief. “I doubt that.”

And now Ty Lee wears a frown, and she shifts to sit beside her on the sofa. “What’s wrong?”

A loaded question, and Ty Lee knows this. “Get out.”

“Azula—”

“Don’t!” She doesn’t mean to snap, and she doesn’t mean to continue snarling out the words, “Don’t pretend to care, don’t pretend to be my friend! Get out! _Now_!”

There is a long moment of silence, and Azula is certain this will make her leave, because Ty Lee can handle her when she’s weighed down, she can handle her when she doesn’t feel a part of this world, that she could slip right out of it, but Ty Lee cannot handle being yelled out.

Somehow, Ty Lee manages to find the courage to stay, though by how stiff she sat, she was far from comfortable.

“Is this because of your talk with Mai?”

Azula tenses, and swallows. “What?”

“Mai told me about what she had told you the other day,” Ty Lee explains, gently, awkwardly. “About…. About how she doesn’t want to be your friend. It was probably…probably really hard to hear that.”

Now Azula cannot move. She is frozen, staring at Ty Lee, not wanting to have this conversation, but not able to stop it.

“And I bet you’re wondering about me too, huh?” And there is that small smile, more in her eyes than on her lips, and Azula has always adored that much more secret smile Ty Lee has. “You don’t have to. Mai and I are different people. And just because Mai feels one way doesn’t mean that I feel the same way.”

Azula wets her lips, her eyes fixed on the paint on her walls. “She betrayed me, and so did you.”

“Azula.” And there’s another shifting, and she almost believes that Ty Lee is laying beside her, at her back. “We’ve talked about that day—”

“You never told me why.”

“Huh?”

“You never told me why you did it,” Azula repeats. “Why you chose Mai over me in that moment.”

Ty Lee’s brows come together, not in confusion, but in sympathy. “I panicked. My— my two best friends were about to kill each other right in front of me, and I panicked. I only cared about both of you not dying, and I knew Mai wouldn’t attack you if you were disarmed.”

And Ty Lee puts her hand over Azula’s as she continues, fingers curling gently over hers.

“And, I don’t see it that I chose her over you, either. I saved _both_ of you that day, I think. I know…. I know you go through some ups and downs, and some days are harder than others, but I think…. I think you would be in a much worse place if you had killed Mai.”

“…Maybe,” Azula says slowly, studying Ty Lee’s expression, searching for a hint of a lie in her words.

“Trust me, Azula. You’re my best friend. I’ve always wanted the best for you. And… I’m not the only one, just so you know.”

There is nothing in Ty Lee’s face that gives anything away, not a trace of a lie, not a hint as to whoever she is cryptically speaking of. Curiosity gets the better of her, and she inquires simply, “Who?”

And Ty Lee gives her another smile, bigger, broader, and she squeezes her hand. “ _Zuko._ ”

Azula looks quickly away, her eyes resting on the lamp by the doorway, the only source of light. “I don’t believe you.”

“He has been worried all day, talking Mai’s ear off about how you never lock yourself up for this long, and how you hadn’t eaten in a day. Mai sent for me to calm him down.” She shakes her head slightly, as if in amusement. “It was really sweet, honestly, to see him so concerned.”

“If he was so concerned, why didn’t he just open the door himself?” Azula scoffs, but she knows the answer.

“Because you get mad when anyone else comes in here,” Ty Lee answers easily. “And I think that he really actually respects that this is your space. He doesn’t want to, you know, mess it up or something.”

Sliding across the cushion, Ty Lee moves closer and holds Azula’s hands with both of her own, and it is so warm. There is such comfort in this gesture, simple as it is, and Azula cannot help but to match her grip. “I know you guys have a, um, tense history, but… I think you should let him in, even if it’s just a little.”

Azula clicks her tongue, looking down at their hands, still clasped together.

“…You really were trying to save me?” she asks. “At the Boiling Rock?”

Perhaps this is only an attempt to distract Ty Lee from where the conversation was headed. Perhaps this is only because she is genuinely curious. But this is the question on Azula’s mind, and she cannot bring herself to look up at Ty Lee when she answers.

“Azula, I wouldn’t ever chi block you for any other reason,” Ty Lee says, and it almost sounds like a promise. “And… I wasn’t so sure for a while if I actually had, because of…you know. What happened after.”

“That I went mad,” Azula supplies. She can almost see the wince Ty Lee surely has, from the word choice, and thankfully, Ty Lee doesn’t try to correct her.

“But I see where you are now, how far you’ve come and the work you’ve done, and how you’ve been letting your guard down around all of Zuko’s friends. It’s incredible and amazing, and I’m just so proud of you, Azula. You’re doing _so well_.”

Even through her scoff, Azula smiles; Ty Lee has always known the way to best compliment her. Facing her, she says, “You’re a flatterer, Ty Lee.”

And she only beams, as if the comment wasn’t dismissive. “I only am being honest.” And then Ty Lee pauses, only slightly, wetting her lips. “Are you feeling any better?”

After a few second’s consideration, Azula nods. “I…think so.”

“You seem like you are.” Ty Lee gives her hands another squeeze, before pulling hers away, and Azula watches them return to her lap. Now both of their hands are marred with earth from the garden. “Are you hungry? I can see—”

“Please do,” Azula agrees, and as Ty Lee stands to call for a servant, she pauses to press a kiss to Azula’s temple.

Azula doesn’t move as Ty Lee steps outside, and she can just barely hear her speaking to someone just beyond the door. Her voice is muffled, no words distinguishable, and at first, she thinks it is a servant that Ty Lee is speaking to, until she hears a voice that is unmistakably her brother’s. She stares at the door, as if that will allow her to hear better as Ty Lee and Zuko go back and forth. It doesn’t, of course.

Before Ty Lee comes back into the room, Azula has lit another lamp, and resists the urge to rub her eyes at the sudden brightness; she doesn’t want more dirt on her face than is certainly already there. She still doesn’t feel entirely herself yet, and even more, doesn’t feel exactly calmed by her conversation with Ty Lee. It’s unfinished. She can feel that.

But she also can feel the emptiness of her stomach, so perhaps it is best that Ty Lee has made that her focus.

When Ty Lee returns— after a spell much longer than should take to simply request food be brought to them— she is holding a small basin and a pitcher.

“I thought that, while we wait for the food, you might want to wash up a little,” she states, setting the objects down on the low table.

Azula watches as she removes a cloth from the basin before pouring the water in. But when Ty Lee reaches for the cloth, Azula holds out her hand.

“I can take care of myself, Ty Lee.”

She nods, and passes the rag to Azula. “Of course!”

The water is cold, but that is an easy fix. Azula warms the water, slipping her hands in, and sets to cleaning herself.

“You spoke with Zuko.”

“Huh?” Ty Lee, who had been sitting down comfortably on the sofa, sits upright, back straight.

“I could hear him through the door.” She carefully and diligently wipes her fingers clean. “He was waiting out there?”

A glance over at Ty Lee reveals that she is nodding. “Like I said, he was worried about you.”

Azula says nothing, focusing on the dirt under her nails.

“…Do you think you’re hated still?”

Ty Lee’s question is unexpected; it is the worst type of question. There is the barest of pauses before Azula resumes scrubbing her nails, picking at the stubborn dirt.

“There are many people, I’m sure, that hate me,” Azula answers. “Many in the Earth Kingdom; Ba Sing Se in particular. But that doesn’t bother me. It’s…”

And she lets go of the rag, picking up a spare towel to dry her hands.

“I’m not entirely sure why you are my friend, why you came back to me.” Azula holds up a hand when Ty Lee murmurs her name, not wanting to be interrupted. “I was mean to you. It would make sense for you to hate me. And I didn’t think that after…. After everything, I would see you again.”

“But I did,” Ty Lee supplies quietly, to which Azula nods.

“You did. And I’ve given you space. I let you decide when you want to see me, I won’t confine you like—”

_Like the last time._

There is a sadness, a strange realization in Ty Lee’s eyes. “Oh, Azula, you’ve been scared I’ll…do that again?”

“I’m not scared,” she snaps back automatically, before letting out a slow exhale. “But… I’ve thought it could happen.”

Ty Lee, in a similar motion to one she’d done earlier, scoots closer to Azula, so that their shoulders are nearly touching. “I’ve been wondering why you’ve been so distant for so long,” she says quietly. “You haven’t needed to worry. Azula, I….”

Azula watches her carefully, at the way Ty Lee is looking at her, at how once again, Ty Lee takes hold of her hand.

Relief pools through her as she understands.

“I care about you a lot,” Ty Lee finishes, “and I’m not going to abandon you.”

Azula nods, and opens her mouth to speak—

Just as the door opens, and three servants enter; two carrying a large, covered tray while a third remained at the door, presumably there to open it for them. They set the tray down on the table, removing the cover and start to set out dishes as elaborately as if they were preparing for an actual dinner in the dining room.

“Oh, um, I’ll take care of it!” Ty Lee chirps, letting go of Azula’s hand to stand. “Thank you!”

Azula almost corrects her, that thanking the staff is unnecessary, as the servants bow and exit the room. Ty Lee quickly looks over what has been brought up; a small spread of noodles and vegetables, with some sort of fish dish by the smell of it. A loud grumble comes from Azula’s stomach, and Ty Lee giggles.

“I know, it smells so good,” she practically sang, putting a small bowl together. “I’m sure you’re very hungry.”

“Famished,” Azula replies, more under her breath than anything else. The moment is gone now, Ty Lee scurrying about to feed her—not that it’s unappreciated. A meal is very much wanted right now, even if she is feeling surly about it.

She accepts the dish from Ty Lee with the quietest of thanks, and they sit together in silence as she eats. Azula goes slow with the meal, in partial due to the manners she has been instilled with, and also so that she does not get sick.

“Azula.”

Her bowl is nearly empty when Ty Lee speaks again, and Azula looks at her.

“You know, it’s okay to care about other people, too.”

Azula holds her gaze, takes in her smile and the warmth in it, and how it matches the warmth in her eyes. A similar, albeit smaller, smile tugs at the corners of her own lips, and she nods.

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't mean to make this Tyzula. I am just apparently incapable of writing any fic featuring the two of them that doesn't get gay. I'd apologize, but I'm not really that sorry. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know your thoughts!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @soozenwrites for writing updates and fandom nonsense.


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